She Had Become

one of those women
who populate myth.
You know the kind I mean.
Often incomparable beauties
but not necessarily.
The ones you never identify with.
The ones from which you feel
safe and remote,
in your big comfy chair,
with your cup of sweet tea
and your plate of cinnamon toast.
The hard-featured ones
that stride past beggars
with a spit and a frown
when they should better have smiled
and offered their last crust of bread,
or a bright silver coin.

There might be redemption,
but it would take some work,
there were no guarantees,
it was probably going to hurt
and she would definitely get
dirty.